The barbarians sensed the shift in power, even if they didn't understand it.
Several took involuntary steps backward as Jolthar approached, their weathered faces showing the first hints of doubt.
Jolthar stood with unnatural stillness as the barbarians stirred restlessly before him.
The long blade in his hand hummed softly, resonating with the green energy that coursed through his transformed body. His stance was relaxed yet perfectly balanced, betraying neither fear nor aggression—merely absolute certainty.
Behind Dagur, Yilar was still sitting on his horse, who had witnessed Jolthar's transformation from the pit and now observed with wary fascination. Unlike the others, Yilar made no move to join the impending conflict, his calculating gaze locked onto Jolthar and the beasts behind him.
He can tell the beasts were under his orders now.
Among the barbarian ranks, uncertainty spread like a contagion.
